<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>His Name is Ivar by deceitfuldevout</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25250407">His Name is Ivar</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/deceitfuldevout/pseuds/deceitfuldevout'>deceitfuldevout</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Actor RPF, Alex Hogh Anderson, European Actor, Vikings (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse, Betrayal, Cheating, Dark Fanfiction, Dark fic, F/M, Infant Death, Infantcide, Loss of Virginity, Murder, Unwanted Pregnancy, Violence, dark ivar, dark!Ivar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:21:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,678</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25250407</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/deceitfuldevout/pseuds/deceitfuldevout</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ivar reunites with a ghost from his past.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Freydis/Ivar (Vikings), Ivar x Reader - Relationship, Ivar/Reader, Katya/Oleg, Oleg/Katya, Reader/Ivar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>His Name is Ivar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a one shot. I am not creative whatsoever I just watched ‘Prince of Egypt’ and did a brain dump.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been a few weeks since Ivar arrived from the Silk Road. He’d taken refuge under Prince Oleg’s wing. In most of his free time, he would tutor the younger prince Igor. One day however, was different. Prince Oleg’s guards came bursting into the room, making way for their leader. He strides until he is facing the two at the table. Oleg raises his hand, waving it to the woman following right behind him, </p><p>“I’d like you to meet my soon-to-be wife, Princess Katya,”</p><p>The woman is dressed from head to toe in royal attire. She approaches the two. She kisses Igor’s hand while bowing in respect. Ivar couldn’t believe his eyes. The princess had the same face as his wife. His dead wife, Freydis. He pays no attention to the guards or Oleg. The color in his face vanished. The gods have to be playing a cruel trick on him. Because not only is his path of fate interwoven with Freydis, but with her handmaiden, you. Ivar’s first love, who has long been presumed dead. Murdered by no other than his former queen. </p><p> </p><p></p><div class="media-holder media-holder-draggable media-holder-hr">
  <hr class="tmblr-truncated"/>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div class="media-button icon_close media-killer">
    <p> </p>
  </div>
</div><p>
  <em>Many years ago Queen Aslaug had purchased a small group of thralls. Your mother and you were in the group. Stolen from a small village far away from Kattegat. Your mother was a skilled dressmaker back home, now she is the Queen’s personal dresser. With the queen’s blessing she allowed you to stay by her side. You would wear dresses made up of Aslaug’s dress scraps. Your sweet mother skillfully made it work. Adoring you with what she could savage. Your mother had you bathed and dressed for the day ahead. You were wearing your favorite dress today. As the both of you leave from your shared chambers the queen asks for company in the throne room. You and your mother quietly await as a servant pulls a cart into the room. A young boy around your age is seated inside. The young prince Ivar notices the thrall girl is dressed in cleaner clothes than her handmaiden mother. He shakes the sides of his cart in excitement when eyes meet yours. Queen Aslaug approaches her youngest son. She kisses the crown of his head and faces you, “This is my son...” <br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“His name is Ivar,”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Ivar!” The boy in the wagon growls.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The young girl clutches onto her mother’s tattered skirts to hide from Ivar’s gaze. Her head leans against the older woman’s hip. Your dear mother turns to you, “Don’t be so shy my sweet,” Her hand sits on your shoulder. She guides you to the young boy, now pouting in his cart, “You said I would have a friend. She doesn’t even like me..” His round eyes now angry with tears.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Aslaug bends down to her boy’s level. She whispers, “She is shy Ivar, give her time,”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ivar looks down as if contemplating on what to do next. He sighs, “fine...thrall!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You jolt in place, “Y-yes?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The boy waves for you to approach, “Push me around,” you scurry to the back of the cart to carry the prince, and off the two of you went. Collecting many cherishing memories ahead. <br/></em>
</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="media-holder media-holder-draggable media-holder-figure">
  <p>
    <br/>
    
  </p>
  <p class="tmblr-attribution">
    <a href="http://tmblr.co/ZqXGHb2UPfC_f">Originally posted by heathenarmyimagines</a>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div class="media-button icon_close media-killer">
    <p> </p>
  </div>
</div><p>
  <em>As a child your only job was to watch over the Ragnarssons, more specifically to watch over young Ivar. You were the Queen’s extra pair of eyes. Over the years you’ve grown alongside the young princes. Soon after your mother became sickly ill and passed away. Queen Aslaug granted you your freedom not long after. She even let you keep your shared room. Your title now was a personal maiden of the royal family. They taught you to adapt to their ways. Queen Aslaug kept you close to her unless you were wanted by Ivar for company. His brothers have asked you quite a few times why you would still stay by his side, even as a free woman who could do as she pleases. You simply answered that Ivar was your first friend, you couldn’t just abandon him. Even as the years went by and he grew to be more stubborn you still couldn’t. The day Ivar became king was when you worried for him. More than ever. His ego became more obvious as the days went by. The power went to his head. You didn’t fear him or hate him like others did. You only miss your dear companion. It was an early spring morning when Ivar asks for your presence. You stood with your head held high, facing the Viking king on his throne. You sigh,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Is there anything you need?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Actually..there is,”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ivar stands from his seat and makes his way towards you. He reaches for your hands to hold in his. He’s nervous but his face doesn’t show it. You could feel his larger hands clench yours tighter before speaking, “I want to marry you,”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Ivar, How many times to I have to tell you that I simply cannot.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He leans in. His face is closing in on your own. How you wanted to lean in! But you couldn’t. It was forbidden. No one would accept a thrall—let alone a Christian thrall for a queen. You reach up and hold his chin back. His eyes widen in hurt. Your hand glides to the side of his cheek. You stay calm and brace yourself, “I’m sorry...” you make your way out of the throne room. As much as it killed you deep inside you knew that this love you had for him would surely end in chaos. It had been weeks since then and you’ve avoided him at all costs. You’d cut off everyone to hide in your room for the next few weeks. Until Hvitserk finally begs you to join him in an upcoming feast. Ivar had placed your seat right across from his for a reason. He wanted you to watch. He knew you would be watching. He wanted to rub it in your face how this could have been you. Ivar holds Freydis’s hand in his to place a kiss. You roll your eyes and look away. Ivar releases her hand to now face you,</em>
</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="media-holder media-holder-draggable media-holder-figure">
  <p>
    <br/>
    
  </p>
  <p class="tmblr-attribution">
    <a href="http://tmblr.co/Z_HCkb2eUKRQf">Originally posted by kanaelii</a>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div class="media-button icon_close media-killer">
    <p> </p>
  </div>
</div><p>
  <em>“I’m sorry, is there something wrong with how I treat my wife?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You look up with a raised brow, “No Ivar,”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He scoffs, “You better show your king more respect if you wish to dine here, do not forget where you came from—<b>thrall</b>,”</em>
</p><p>Y<em>ou shot a look at him, “I didn’t want to be here, I was escorted by YOUR guards!”</em></p><p>
  <em>Ivar tenses when Freydis looks up at him, “Is this true?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You laugh, “Even now Ivar still needs a sitter,”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ivar tilts his head to the side and smiles, “Should there be a reason why I shouldn’t be accompanied by a <b>servant?</b>”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Freydis eyes you for a second, she looks back at her husband in disbelief. He lets out a long sigh, “You shouldn’t worry so much my Queen, only focus on our child,” he rubs her round belly Your heart aches. How you’ve missed the young boy he once were. After King Ivar’s long celebration you retire to your room. You turn around to see Ivar in your chambers, making you jump, “What are you doing here? Where is Freydis?” You unravel your braids, preparing for slumber. Your fingers comb through your hair. He hums, “She left the event early, and when I had arrived to our chambers she was already in a deep slumber,” Ivar takes a swig of ale. his words begin to stir, “Why do you reject me so?” He whines, more likely from the pain in his legs. Ivar sits next to you on your bed, “I am your king and yet you still treat me as if I’m a young boy,” his hand reaches for you. He combs your hair out with his fingers.You hold his hand still, “Ivar please, you know I don’t want to be in that kind of position. What will your people think about having a Christian for a queen?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He lets out a huff in annoyance. He stops combing through your hair but his hand still remains holding the back of your neck. His voice is quieter, ”They’ve already accepted a cripple for a king,” he smirks, but deep down you knew it was another facade to hide him hurting. You look at his parted lips with hooded eyes. He closes his and leans in. You gasp while shoving at his chest, giving it a light slap. Ivar’s eyes shoot open in disbelief. His posture now hunches. You’re fuming at his selfishness, “How dare you! How <b>dare</b> you!! How dare you show up in my chambers drunken out of your mind looking for something to stick your prick in while your pregnant wife is asleep!! I will not be some—some heathen man’s whore!!!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ivar is livid. He shoves you down onto the bedding below. He straddles your struggling body. His strong hand holds your chin to face him. A look of hatred spreads across his features, “You will no longer reject me. Don’t think for a second that I won’t punish you for disobeying your king,” his free hand reaches down your tunic, ripping it down the front to reveal your breasts, “S-stop! Ivar stop! You’re a madman!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That’s <b>King</b> Ivar to you,”</em>
</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="media-holder media-holder-draggable media-holder-figure">
  <p>
    <br/>
    
  </p>
  <p class="tmblr-attribution">
    <a href="http://tmblr.co/Z8jf8Z2gEmBQQ">Originally posted by ivaraddict</a>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div class="media-button icon_close media-killer">
    <p> </p>
  </div>
</div><p>
  <em>He had taken you that night. No matter how many times you had begged him for mercy, how many times you pleaded for him to stop, Ivar would always have what he’s wanted, and he had waited long enough.</em>
</p><p>You could’ve sworn Ivar was staring holes into your head from across the table. You and the Princess bid Oleg a farewell before leaving. Ivar can’t seem to concentrate on anything else other than the princess’s handmaiden. He didn’t try to hide his curiosity, making it obvious to Prince Oleg’s attention as well.</p><p>“And why does my wife’s handmaiden interest you so?” Oleg awaits his answer,</p><p>“I’ve noticed that she is her only servant with a sword by her side,”</p><p>“I found her actually. During one of the coldest winter days...”</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="media-holder media-holder-draggable media-holder-figure">
  <p>
    <br/>
    
  </p>
  <p class="tmblr-attribution">
    <a href="http://tmblr.co/ZmruYk2gi2TUP">Originally posted by leahberman</a>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div class="media-button icon_close media-killer">
    <p> </p>
  </div>
</div><p>
  <em>Oleg and his men were about to head home after a successful hunt. Right across the river they faced. A young woman runs down a hilltop. She clutches onto a basket with one hand, the other bears a bundle of cloths. His hunters pay no attention to her until a group of men on horses charge from behind the woman. Another common thief he supposed. He watches her run into the icy waters for sanctuary.The woman opens the basket and carefully places the blanket inside. She covers it with a lid, letting the basket drift off. That river would reach to the next town not too far away. The men on horses slow down, knowing that she had no where else to run. She turns around to face her attackers, unsheathing her sword she readies to fight for her very life. This was no ordinary woman, Olaf realizes that now. This was a Norsewoman! Now the real question remains:</em>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>What did she obtain that was worth dying for?</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <em>Oleg commands one of his men to retrieve the basket. The others follow him on their horses across the shallow waters. There isn’t one man unarmed. He raises an arm and they fire. Shooting down each of your attackers, one by one they fell to the ground. Only their leader remains. Oleg approaches the young woman. Her face is weathered out from the cold wind. Cold sweat drips her forehead, making the hair stick to her brow. She is not from these lands. What was her reason for traveling all the way out here all alone? He speaks up,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I think I can be of service,”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Who are you?“ she whispers,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ve already sent my men to retrieve your treasure,”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Please...” she drops to her knees, “Please you have to hurry!”</em>
</p><p>The young boy clutches your skirts to hide from Ivar’s gaze. His head leans against your hip. He is dressed in cleaner clothes. Ivar couldn’t stop thinking about the boy who would follow you around. <em>Perhaps he were one of Oleg’s? No, their people didn’t claim bastards. That could only mean..was he truly yours? Did you take another lover right after him? How old was the child?</em></p><p> </p><p></p><div class="media-holder media-holder-draggable media-holder-figure">
  <p>
    <br/>
    
  </p>
  <p class="tmblr-attribution">
    <a href="http://tmblr.co/ZrB7Ty2mf_AnA">Originally posted by timotay-chalamet</a>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div class="media-button icon_close media-killer">
    <p> </p>
  </div>
</div><p>“Don’t be shy boy,” Oleg hoists him into his arms. He tickles the boy’s rib cage, causing the infant to squeal. By what he could tell the child had been spoiled rotten by Oleg. He had been a favor to especially the women of the court.</p><p>“Uncle Oleg!” The boy sits on his lap during their feast. Katya joins them with her handmaiden right beside her. She kisses her husband and then the boy’s temple. Oleg turns to Ivar “Have you your own family?”</p><p>“Once,”</p><p>Katya’s maiden stills. She stops eating yet her eyes remain on her plate. Her face pales.</p><p>“Once? And what happened?” Oleg’s head tilts.</p><p>
  <em>Freydis had let soldiers from the outside in. As soon you told her of your secret involving Ivar, she devised a plan to show the soldiers Kattegat’s secret entrance. At least she had found one last way to avenge her son. Freydis knew you hadn’t taken part in the affair by choice. That is why she kept you close to her protection. She hands you a bag with supplies,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Go. Please.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“But Freydis-“</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“My destiny has already determined by the gods. You do not deserve the same fate,”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Thank you..” for once, in quite a long time, Freydis smiles.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Not long after you’ve escaped Ivar bursts through the doors. He winces at each step he takes until he’s face to face with Freydis. His breathing is uneven. He takes in harsh breaths,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Do you have anything to say?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“There is nothing to say,”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Where is she? Hm?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Freydis looks him in the eyes then turns around, facing away from the man she once loved,“There is nothing to say...” She seals her fate, “She is dead Ivar-”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ivar strangles her from behind. Their bodies fall to the floor. Freydis struggles to free from his grip, continuously slapping at him. Ivar clenches the string around her neck. After a few moments her body goes limp. Ivar rises from the ground. He knows he has to find a way to escape—fast.</em>
</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="media-holder media-holder-draggable media-holder-figure">
  <p>
    <br/>
    
  </p>
  <p class="tmblr-attribution">
    <a href="http://tmblr.co/ZLYs3i2nWabn5">Originally posted by bonniebird</a>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div class="media-button icon_close media-killer">
    <p> </p>
  </div>
</div><p>And that is why Ivar now sits in Oleg’s dining hall. He is accompanied by the Prince and his now wife, Princess Katya. All other servants are dismissed. They eat in quiet until the Prince speaks up,</p><p>“My wife tells me something quite interesting,”</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="media-holder media-holder-draggable media-holder-figure">
  <p>
    <br/>
    
  </p>
  <p class="tmblr-attribution">
    <a href="http://tmblr.co/ZRr3gc2nUBwYO">Originally posted by honestsycrets</a>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div class="media-button icon_close media-killer">
    <p> </p>
  </div>
</div><p>Ivar looks up to the Oleg with a raised brow, “Did she?” He continues eating. The Prince’s eyes arm gleaming. As soon as Oleg found out about Ivar confronting his wife he was humored. Oleg slides the plates off the table, letting them carelessly scatter the surface. He makes love to his now wife in front of the former king. But all Ivar could think of how it was once him doing such acts.</p><p>
  <em>Ivar wasn’t oblivious. He knew that his brothers wanted to court you. The only thing he could think of was how he would do the same with you. For some reason, deep inside, something inside told him to claim you. That no one else should have you. No one was worthy enough. It was after a celebration of another successful raid. Everyone had either left or were ordered to leave. You eye him warily from the end of the table. You look down to your plate every now and then. Ivar calls your name in a gentle tone. <br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes Ivar-“</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s King! King Ivar!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes <b>King</b> Ivar,”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I should have you hanged for that,”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You won’t,”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And why is that?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Because I’ve done nothing-“</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Come here,” Ivar waves his hand, smiling.</em>
</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="media-holder media-holder-draggable media-holder-figure">
  <p>
    <br/>
    
  </p>
  <p class="tmblr-attribution">
    <a href="http://tmblr.co/ZLYs3i2nVUPez">Originally posted by bonniebird</a>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div class="media-button icon_close media-killer">
    <p> </p>
  </div>
</div><p>
  <em>You walk towards him with grace, holding your head high. He reaches for your arm, you don’t resist as he holds both of your hands in his.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We will have to do something about this new rebellious streak of yours,” He pulls you down into his lap, you try to pry his arms away, but it was as if you were trying to bend steel,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Ivar! Ivar what are you doing?!” You shove at him but it only moves his body slightly, “Get off! <b>Get off of me!”</b></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ivar throws you against the table, he pulls a wired rope from underneath him. He grips both of your hands painfully while he coils the cord around your wrists. Ivar shoves your face against the hardwood as he rakes up your skirts,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Ivar...please, listen to me...this-this won’t prove anything. If you go through with it I will never forgive you-“ Ivar lines his tip to your entrance and you panic, “Ivar!! IVAR STOP!!! I WILL <b>NEVER</b> FORGIVE—-AHH!!!!“</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ivar knew what he did was wrong. He knew he was breaking your trust. He even made other men watch as a warning. As a message. He made them watch as he violated you. As he tore apart the last of your dignity.</em>
</p><p>Sadness overcomes his features from remembering. A strong feeling of regret eats away at his spirit. Ivar looks down to his plate in shame, unable to eat, unable to think, he just sits quietly in disgust with himself. He is trapped in his mind, hearing the echoes of your screams. He waits until they’ve finished to speak up, “I need some fresh air,” Oleg chuckles. The Russian prince points to the door, “By all means,” </p><p>Ivar visits the town. He makes his way through a large crowd. The people were so similar with their features and clothing, yet so different to make them individual to one another. He spots you not too far away. You’re wearing a thick dress for the winter. The end of it drags along while you pass by a few stands, examining each and every one of them carefully. Ivar knows you’re in deep thought by now from the way you crinkle your nose to your brows furrowing. It had to be you. But how? How could you possibly have made it all the way here? Ivar notices you turning around to yell,</p><p>“Ivar! Stop right there you little trouble maker!”</p><p>He ducks into the crowd. It was her! She was alive!</p><p>But how? </p><p>
  <em>You had purchased a small cottage nearby the town, but not too close for it to be hidden in the woods. Your hair had been combed back into headscarf, hidden underneath a long hood. You draped your basket in thick wool and blankets, holding it close to you as you head for the local market place.</em>
</p><p>Ivar finds you alone whilst your lady is in fornication with her husband. You carry a tray with a small bowl placed in center, making way to your chambers no doubt. Ivar steps in your way, causing you to almost drop the tray’s contents where you stood. You’re trapped under his gaze yet again. His throat is dry yet still capable of producing words,</p><p>“I know you...”</p><p>“I’m not sure what you mean your highness-“</p><p>“Please! Enough with the games! It is you! You even called for my name in a crowd I am no fool!”</p><p>Your eyes widen in shock, “I do not know what you mean my lord, good night.” You curtsy then carry on. Ivar looks at you. He is left yet again broken-hearten. How he wishes he could’ve changed the past. If it meant you could look at him like you used to, instead of in sadness and disappointment. He misses your smile, your laughter, when you would dance during celebrations, the first kiss you shared as young children. The giggles and whispers that the two of you would share. To be young and careless again. He curses to himself. How he wishes for the love of his life to come back.</p><p>
  <em>Not much had been available from farmers due to the harsh winters. You realize now that fish and bread will have to do for tonight, again. You tip the butcher a small bag of coins and bid the elder man a farewell. If you started making your way home now you’d make it before sundown. Something blocks your path, two men on their horses. These were no ordinary men. You knew them well. They were bounty hunters sent to find you. To kill you. They knew where you were. Before one of the men could balance off his horse you made a run for it. He had scrambled back onto his horse and ordered the other to charge. You drop your food in front of their way, a group of villagers lunge to the ground, blocking their destination. You whirl and twist your way through the busy crowds, dodging the moving carts and sliding through alleyways. If you made it to the church they would offer shelter for the night. You could hide out there in the meantime. As you walk through the narrowing ally you place the basket to your hip to fit the both of you. You’ve almost made it to the end...just a bit further. You slowly approach the daylight, creeping from the frigid shadows. You look on both sides and notice it’s clear for a stroll. You hold your basket closer than ever, clinging onto it for dear life. All you needed to do was pass by the next row of buildings.</em>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>“THERE SHE IS!!”</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <em>Your heart leaps. Your feet pick up their quick pace once again. You’ve never ran so fast in your life. You could see the church. It’s doors were practically glowing, luring you in.</em>
</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="media-holder media-holder-draggable media-holder-figure">
  <p>
    <br/>
    
  </p>
  <p class="tmblr-attribution">
    <a href="http://tmblr.co/ZTfL1j2hPuoxY">Originally posted by arcusxx</a>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div class="media-button icon_close media-killer">
    <p> </p>
  </div>
</div><p>
  <b> <em>Almost there...Please...please God...grant me salvation...</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <em>You scream, you yell, you slam the doors with one fist until it had formed blisters,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Please! Please help!! Please I have a-“</em>
</p><p>
  <em>An arrow shoots the door. Making you drop the basket, you still hold the blankets close to your embrace. You turn around to find the men now gathering in a circle. Their numbers have increased. You were outnumbered, but not outwitted. You grab the basket in your free hand and rush to the side of the church as a horse gallops your way. You make a sharp turn inside to give you more time.</em>
</p><p>The royal family has prepared a grand celebration for the evening, in honor of their newest alliance. You and Katya wear long silk dresses embroidered with jewels. Ivar and Oleg sit across the women. Prince Igor and the young boy are seated together at the men’s side.</p><p>“You must have be quite a famous king, since this boy shares the same name as you,” Oleg pats the boy’s head gently. Ivar looks the boy up and down.</p><p>
  <em>You’re now running towards the forest, maybe there you’ll finally lose them. You scurry down a rigid slope. There seems to be less trees where you’re heading. That could only mean one thing: The river was ahead. You make way down the hilltop. Your scarf had long been gone, your hood now flowing in the wind. You knew there was no way to run now. But there will be a chance to save a life. You step into the icy waters. The cold prickles your sore body. As soon as you make it to the river you chant a prayer in mind.</em>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Please God...spare mercy. Let this river carry him to a better life. Sacrifice me as your loyal subject, but please, please spare my only reason to live.</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <em>You place your life into the basket. Tears begin to stream knowing that this might be the last time you’ll ever see your boy. Salty droplets land on his round cheeks. He lashes flutter as he bats his blue eyes bat in curiosity. His pudgy hands reach for his mother, only to be shut closed with the lid of the basket. You let it drift off, ignoring the faint cries it carries.</em>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Goodbye my love. Goodbye.</em> </b>
</p><p>Oleg smirks at Ivar. He tilts his head to the young boy stuffing his face, “His name is Ivar,”</p><p>
  <em>You turn to the men with fire in your eyes. You know what you must do now. You pull out your sword, ready to fight, for not only your life.</em>
</p><p>“Ivar!” The boy growls, Oleg mimics him with a deeper growl, causing the boy to burst out a laugh.</p><p>
  <b>It all made sense now...</b>
</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="media-holder media-holder-draggable media-holder-figure">
  <p>
    <br/>
    
  </p>
  <p class="tmblr-attribution">
    <a href="http://tmblr.co/ZWeBZt2ll3gNz">Originally posted by therealcalicali</a>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div class="media-button icon_close media-killer">
    <p> </p>
  </div>
</div><p>Ivar’s heart sinks. His mouth goes dry. He can’t find any words. He glances at you while you look back. Your eyes plead for him not to make a scene. He looks back at the boy with tears beginning to brim. He can’t stop staring at the rosy cheeked infant. He couldn’t believe his eyes. How could something so <em>perfect</em> come from him? From the boy’s soft mop of hair to his doe eyes, to his chubby body, right down to his working legs. Ivar knows the truth. He knows now why you left, he knows that child right beside him had to be his boy. The sun is setting. Everyone makes their way to bed, except Ivar. He waits until there aren’t many servants walking around. He knows exactly where you’d be at this time. He creaks your door open slightly. You’re dressed in a long white night gown. The color of purity, how your heart has always been. He knocks on the door and you lift your head up,</p><p>“Come in,”</p><p>Ivar limps in slowly. He is careful with each step, not making any noise. You stand from your bedside. Curious as to who it may be at this hour. Your boy is playing with his toys. He doesn’t pay notice to the strange man in the room until he notices his mother is unsettled. The child looks up at Ivar, intimidated by the older man.</p><p>You shook your head, “I-Ivar what are you doing here?! I should call the guards immediately!”</p><p>“Please! Just...just listen to what I have to say...”</p><p>You wait for him to continue,</p><p>“There are so <em>so</em> many things I wish I could change. I never wanted to hurt you, especially in the way I did. I can’t sleep at night knowing that you could’ve been dead. All because of me...” tears stream down his eyes, “I had been selfish enough to take advantage of the woman I love..”</p><p>“You still love me?” You look into his eyes. He truly meant it, “I have <em>always</em> loved you. From the moment I saw you. I knew I had to have you and I—“ his vision blurs with tears forming, “I am...so <em>so</em> sorry for what I did...”</p><p>Your hand reaches for his chin, sliding up to caress his cheek and wipe away his tears. Ivar didn’t cry much. This must’ve been held deep inside for a long time.You turn around to your boy,</p><p>“Don’t be shy my love, his name is also Ivar,”</p><p>The boy’s eyes glimmer in excitement, “Like the great warrior in the stories you tell?”</p><p>You give him a nod, “He is the warrior,”</p><p>Your little Ivar drops his mouth in disbelief. He drops his toys and jumps from the ground. His short legs rush too fast to him he almost trips on his way to the older man. Your boy starts jumping in place, “Please sir! Please tell me a story!”</p><p>Ivar looks up to see you preparing pillows to lay on. The younger Ivar now sits in between the older man and his mother. His smaller body leans into your embrace. The both of you look at the elder Ivar, awaiting for a story. Ivar never thought in so many years, he could truly live in such happiness again. He's mesmerized.</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="media-holder media-holder-draggable media-holder-figure">
  <p>
    <br/>
    
  </p>
  <p class="tmblr-attribution">
    <a href="http://tmblr.co/ZWeBZt2mssnsZ">Originally posted by therealcalicali</a>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div class="media-button icon_close media-killer">
    <p> </p>
  </div>
</div><p>He clears his throat, preparing for a tale,</p><p>“Well...”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Follow my tumblr: deceitfuldevout</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>